


Goodnight

by mtac_archivist



Category: NCIS
Genre: Disturbing Themes, Drama, F/M, Not Episode Related, Not a Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-23
Updated: 2009-09-23
Packaged: 2019-03-02 07:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13312911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtac_archivist/pseuds/mtac_archivist
Summary: the saying goes, you'll never know what you've got till it's gone. Post-Aliyah. Warnings for character death.





	Goodnight

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Jessi, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [ MTAC](https://fanlore.org/wiki/MTAC), an archive of NCIS fanfiction which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after August 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator (and this work is still attached to the archivist account), please contact me using the e-mail address on [ the MTAC collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/mtac/profile)

Genre: Angst/Tragedy   
Pairings: Tony/Ziva  
Spoilers: Semper Fidelis, Aliyah  
Warnings: Character death  
Word Count: 1627  
Summary: And the saying goes, you’ll never know what you’ve got till it’s gone. Post-Aliyah.  
Disclaimer: All belongs to CBS and Don Bellisario.

A/N: So, I can’t say this is the first time I’ve attempted to write a fanfic, but I can say this is the first time I’ve managed to finish one, and I call it an accomplishment. Thanks to A Fanfiction Angel for beta-ing this for me!

 

Goodnight by Leah Z

 

She often looks back on her life.

Sometimes, she wonders about the things she has done. Sometimes, she wonders about the things she hasn’t done. And sometimes, she wonders about the things she’ll never be able to do.

Tonight, she sits by the window and pours herself amber liquid. Amber, like his hair in the sunlight.

* * *

She stands on the tarmac as the plane takes off and disappears into the horizon. She can feel the hole inside widen just a bit more.

The people in her life, the ones she’s cared about, the ones she’s loved, they’ve come and gone. And each time, they take a piece of her heart with them.

She wonders when it’ll altogether cease to beat.

* * *

“Tell me everything you know about NCIS.”

She hasn’t eaten for god knows how long. She’s only been given brief sips of water. Sleep has been a sacred thing to her.

The hand comes down hard on her cheek. She doesn’t wince. She’s too tired.

“Tell me everything you know about NCIS.”

The small shaft of light emanating from one of the prison walls has disappeared and reappeared so many times already. Days melt into weeks, and weeks into a meaningless spur of time.  
She doesn’t care anymore.

The finger comes towards her, gentler this time, resting on her heart. Or what’s left of it.  
“Your beats are numbered.”

They’ve always been, ever since Tali died.

“So end it now.” She doesn’t even recognize her own voice.

One frustrated blow and she’s knocked to the ground, still tied to her chair.

She can’t help it any longer. She cries out. In pain, in anguish, in loathing, in mourning.

“Tell me everything you know about NCIS!”

She doesn’t speak.

Then suddenly the door to the prison bursts open, and she hears gunfire.

She closes her eyes, praying for the end.

She can sense her captor’s body drop before it even hits the ground. She doesn’t move.

There is a hand on her arm, strangely familiar.  
“Ziva.” she opens her eyes.

Tony.

She shifts away, or tries to.

“Ziva…”

His hand is still on her arm. She turns away from him, she can’t do anything else. She feels so helpless.

But she can feel the hand slip off her arm, almost reluctantly. She feels another pair of hands, stronger and rougher than the first. They find their way to her wrists, and cut at the bonds tying her to the chair.

As she is carried away, his eyes are following her own. She welcomes the coming darkness.

* * *

He’s here again, and she’s pretending to sleep as usual.

She knows he’s well aware, and she knows she’s hurting him.

Behind her eyelids, she can sense the first rays of daylight on window. She hears the shuffling of feet, and his presence is gone.

She opens her eyes and sighs.

She misses their past as partners, their childish games and their non-stop teasing. More than she’ll ever admit.

Sometimes she wonders whose fault it really was for all this to end. Her for lying? Or him for killing Michael?

She stares out the dusty hospital window. The sky is red, blood red, and once again, the image of Michael comes to her mind, her own hands trying in vain to stop the blood seeping past her fingers.

* * *

“DiNozzo, David, sketch, bag, and tag.”

“Yes, boss.”

“Yes, Gibbs.”

She can’t help but notice how cold and stony their replies sound. She wonders why Gibbs bothers partnering them up anymore. Their friendship is long gone, and so is the trust.

It’s been six months, six months since she was left standing on the tarmac, six months since she was held in that wretched prison, and six months since her rescue.

She was offered to come back to NCIS, much to her surprise, and she accepted. She doesn’t know why.

“David.” Aroused from her thoughts, she looks up to stare into his eyes. She brushes past him without a word. He sighs audibly.

* * *

He’s patiently waited for her, she knows, waiting for her to talk to him, but she doesn’t. He wanted to reconcile, but she doesn’t allow one. To him, she’s foreign and icy. She speaks to him only when absolutely required to. He was hopeful, but she’s only disappointed him. He lost hope, little by little, and soon the hope diminished altogether. He became as cold as she.

He’s killed Michael. She can’t just trust him all over again.

* * *

She silently observes him.

Six months has aged him more than they really should have. Wisps of grey already appeared in his thinning brown hair, exhaustion clearly visible from the lines on his forehead, and dark circles were present beneath his eyes. No doubt he has difficulty sleeping at night.

But it’s not just his physical attire that’s changed.

The new Tony is serious. No more jokes, no more teasing, no more movie references, no more smiles.

And those eyes, those green eyes that she once admired so much, they no longer sparkle.

Everything’s changed. She’s changed. He’s changed.

* * *

He’s standing, slightly swaying, eyes wide. His hand reaches to his chest, and everything is confirmed when he feels the warm, stickiness in his hand. He stumbles to his knees, she catches him wither her hands, and they both descend to the ground.

“Tony.” she whispers. Tired eyes blink back.

She calls for an ambulance over her phone, then turns her attention back to him. She cups his face in her hands.

“Stay with me, Tony. Ambulance is on its way.” She presses her hands to the wound.

“You �" you’re so beautiful when you worry.” She nearly misses the gentle whisper, and she could have laughed if the situation weren’t so serious.

“You’ll be fine, Tony.”

He grins weakly, that cheeky DiNozzo grin.

“Looked down… and to the left.”

She can’t help but smile.

“Shouldn’t have told you that.”

His breathing grows shorter.

“Ziva…”

“Tony, don’t”

“Ziva, please.”

She can hear the resonance in his calm voice, in his plea. She stares back into those eyes, and thinks she can see what she’s been missing.

He winces, and pushes her hands away from his chest.

“McGee… Tell him he’ll make a great senior field agent,” he paused “and that he… can have my desk.”

He is interrupted by a cough.

She stills his pale shaking hands in her own blood soaked ones.

“Hug…Abby for… me. Tell her I’ll… miss her.”

He coughs again.

“Tell Ducky… he’ll have new stories… to tell.”

Another cough. Weaker this time.

“And tell Gibbs… thank you.”

She nods.

“I’m sorry… for how things were left… between us.”

“I am too Tony, I am too.”

More coughing, lasting longer than the rest. She can see the red stain on his lips. She mentally curses.

But he’s staring at her with calmness and determination in his eye. She’s not sure if she wants to continue listening.

“I love you.”

She’s confused, she’s shocked, she’s speechless.

A tear escapes his eyes before they slide closed. He gives a small sigh, and that was it.

She allows her own tears to come fall.

* * *

She tells them.

McGee says he’ll never be as good as an agent as he was. The desk remains the same.

Abby’s tearful, and hugs her back, so hard that she couldn’t breathe.

Ducky nods and goes off on his own little soliloquy. She slips away unnoticed, not wanting to hear any stories.

Gibbs only smiles.

* * *

She abandons the glass of amber liquid and steps onto her balcony. The cool evening air caresses her skin. She looks up at the sky. It’s clear tonight, and the stars twinkle down at her, mocking her. They only remind her of the way his eyes were, six months ago, a lifetime ago, back before everything fell apart.

She wants to laugh at the irony of everything. She remembers the way she felt when her hands were on Michael chest, when he slipped unconscious in the ambulance, when the doctor stepped out of the trauma unit to inform her that he was very sorry Michael did not make it. She remembers the burning feeling inside her.

She knows now that it wasn’t grief she felt. It was only anger. Grief was when Tony died.

She doesn’t hear the footsteps approach, but she can felt a presence behind her. She doesn’t turn around, she already knows who it is.

“Could catch a chill out here.” She doesn’t respond. She just continues staring at the stars.

Something is draped over her shoulders, soft and warm and oddly comforting. Then she catches the familiar scent of shampoo mingled with aftershave.

Tony’s favorite jacket.

She turns around and finds herself wrapped in Gibbs’ strong embrace. She can feel the familiar prickle in her eyes again.

“He loved me, Gibbs.” Gibbs says nothing.

Silence.

“And I loved him.” Gibbs’ hold around her tightens, and she can sense the tears in the hard ex-marine’s eyes.

She doesn’t know how long they stand there, but when Gibbs plants a kiss on her forehead and whispers “Stay strong, everything will be fine,” she’s alone again, almost as if he was never here.

She pulls Tony’s jacket tighter around herself and buries her face deeper into the fabric, breathing in the scent and trying to feel the warmth of his body that was once there.

The hole inside has widened just a bit more.

The people in her life, the ones she’s cared about, the ones she’s loved, they’ve come and gone. And each time, they take a piece of her heart with them.

She wonders when it’ll altogether cease to beat.

She faces the night once again.

“ _Laila tov._ ” she whispers.

And she swears she can hear it whisper back.

“ _Buona notte._ ”

 

A/N: I thought I’d like to add the “Laila tov” and “Buona notte” in there because I thought it was a pretty sweet scene in season 3. It was the first Tiva moment (:

And if you’ve made it to the end, thanks! Was it too random? Awkward? Cliché? I need you’re criticism! Review please? (:

-Leah


End file.
